


Break

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall missed Harry and Harry looks really good in tiny red shorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break

**Author's Note:**

> If you watched the Late Late Show last night then you'll understand. Just a thousand or so words of porn.

Niall’s been looking forward to doing the Late Late Show. Press can be tedious sometimes and they’ve walked on eggshells since Zayn left but James makes him laugh and they all trust him to run a good interview.

Niall had a bit of a heads up about the dodgeball skit and all of them are pumped up for it. Their fans are going to eat it up. 

Cordo shows them their kits - vests with “Cordon’s Angels” across the chest and red shorts. Everyone takes the piss when Cordo hands Harry the smallest pair of shorts, holding them up so everyone can see just how little they are. 

In true Harry fashion, he takes them with a grin and a glint in his eyes. 

No one’s laughing thirty minutes later when Harry comes into the gym where they’re filming. Least of all Niall, suddenly grateful his own shorts are loose enough to conceal his dick, which chubbed up the second the doors opened. He could tell himself some excuse about how long it’s been but fact is, his dick’s been well trained to get excited anytime Harry’s around, especially when he’s nearly six feet and two thirds of that is skin and the tiniest pair of shorts Niall has ever seen. 

“Looking good, H,” Ben says with a little bit of a leer and Harry preens, pushes his hair off his shoulder and his chest out. 

There’s nothing Harry Styles likes more than having all eyes on him. He’s making the most of it this morning, bending over with his hands pressed flat to the floor in a yoga pose, the material pulling tight across his arse, stretching his arms over his head so his vest slips up his flat belly, his skin golden from a month in LA. 

Liam and Louis love to give Harry hell about his cleanses and yoga and green smoothies but Niall has to admit, if only to himself, that Harry has never looked better. His thighs are especially nice from all the cycling and hiking he’s been doing and Niall gets a ball to the chest at one point when he’s admiring the way they flex when Harry crouches down into a squat. 

Niall recovers quickly but gets caught out a short while later when Louis knocks his knuckles beneath Niall’s chin. “Nice, mate, try for a little subtlety.” 

Niall’s face heats up and he ducks away, ghosting his hand over his cock. It’s going to be a long day. 

Luckily he’s distracted by balls flying everywhere, women who could knock him out going for broke. He's tired and breathing hard by the time they reach a stopping point.

“Alright, let’s take a half hour break and get back to it,” Ben says from behind one of the cameras. Harry turns automatically towards Niall. He tilts his head in a question and Niall rolls his eyes, mostly at himself and how stupid for Harry fucking Styles he is. 

There’s a single person loo at one end of the gymnasium and Harry takes off for it with Niall right behind him as the room clears out. 

Niall throws the lock on the door behind him and turns to find Harry leaning against the wall, back arched and hips out, his cock half hard in his tiny shorts. 

“You like these?” Harry’s had a cold, his voice lower than usual and he sounds like pure sex right now. Harry grins. “I do too. I think I might keep them.” 

“Shut up,” Niall mutters. He’s used to this by now but it doesn’t make him any less annoyed that he’s just another in a long line of people crazy for Harry and every ridiculous thing about him. 

Harry’s smirk softens and he reaches for Niall, fingers in the waist of his shorts. “I missed you, you know,” he says. 

Niall believes him. “Yeah, I know. Missed you too, didn’t I.” 

Niall’s still got his knee pads on which makes the whole kneeling on cold tile with his bum knee thing a little easier. He looks up at Harry who’s watching him, hair falling in his face and eyes dark. 

It ends up being difficult to get the shorts down Harry’s thighs. There’s not a lot of give in the material. “Jesus, how did you get them on?” 

Harry chuckles. “Perseverance, Niall,” he says, leaning back, perfectly content to watch Niall struggle. 

Harry’s wearing a cup and nothing else under the shorts. Niall tugs that down his thighs and Harry’s cock springs free, thick and hard and fucking gorgeous. 

There’s maybe twenty minutes - enough time to get Harry off, probably not enough time for Niall to have a go as well. He’s good at problem solving though so he pushes his own shorts and pants down his thighs. He can do two things at once, easy. 

And he’s always loved a good wank on his knees with his mouth full. 

Harry’s cock is as big as the rest of him and Niall’s a pro at this these days. He’s enough practice on the road, learning what Harry likes and discovering that _he_ , in fact, really loves having his face fucked. 

Harry likes to be warmed up. He likes to be teased and worked over until he’s panting and begging for it and then likes to let go and get rough near the end. 

It suits Niall just fine. 

Niall licks the tip of Harry’s cock where it’s wet with pre-come. It’s good,his first taste of Harry after a break and Niall wants to skip the build up and go right to gagging himself on Harry, get to the part where his eyes water and he’s filthy with spit sliding down his chin and his lips are sore. 

He knows exactly what this is going to look like when they resume filming and maybe they should be careful. But but he’s spent the morning hard and worked up and it’s been nearly a month since he’s had this. This is his reward. 

Niall fits his hand around the base of Harry’s dick and feeds it to himself, licking around the head and sliding his lips down the length and back up as he wanks himself with his other hand. 

He lifts his eyes up to find Harry looking down at him. There’s a slight pink to his cheeks and his mouth is wet. Harry is always gorgeous, though Niall’s careful not to tell him lest his head swell even larger, but like this he’s stunning. Niall makes a hungry noise and works his hand on himself a little faster. 

By the time he takes Harry’s cock between his lips and swallows him down, they’re both breathing hard, the sounds of it loud in the loo, echoing off the walls. 

Niall fits his lips around Harry, mindful of his teeth and sinks slowly down until his eyes are watering and there’s that tell-tale flutter that terrified him the first time it happened. 

Harry lets out a shaky breath and rests one hand on the crown of Niall’s head. Never pushing because he’s polite like that and if he wanted to, he’d ask first. But Niall nudges Harry’s hand, a little nod of permission, and Harry pets at Niall’s hair before he curls his fingers in it and carefully eases him down. 

Niall chokes and splutters and comes back up for a gasp of air before he goes right back to it, slobbering all over Harry’s cock. 

“That’s good, ah,” Harry gasps and Niall can feel the muscles in his thighs trembling, clearly trying hard to keep from fucking Niall’s throat. 

Niall’s cock is leaking all over his hand, making the slide of it slick and so fucking good. He knows the minute Harry comes it’ll all be over for him, he’s no good at holding off.

Niall pulls his mouth off with an obscene sound and a gasp for breath. He slides his hand through the pre-come and spit and strokes Harry as he tries to steading his breathing. 

“Go on, Haz,” he says, dragging his eyes upward. Harry’s flushed and sweat damp, chest rising and falling. 

“Come in my mouth,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing and takes Harry in again, careful not to go too deep too soon. 

He feels the shift in Harry as he gets close, the hitch in his breathing. He sucks harder, cheeks hollowed, and waits Harry out. 

The first pulse hits him at the back of his throat, coating his mouth, warm and bitter and familiar. He groans - he loves this part so much - and speeds his hand up, his belly going warm and his balls tightening up. 

He lets Harry gently push him off but stays where he is. He’s so close it won’t take much more than a minute or too. He leans his forehead against harry’s thigh and breathes deep. There’s no finesse to it when he comes, it’s frantic and desperate and shudders through it, coating his hand with his come. 

There’s a minute of silence as they tuck themselves back into their shorts. Niall cleans himself up with loo roll and stands shakily to wash his hands. 

He catches sight of himself in the mirror and grimaces. He’s pink-faced and sweaty, his hair a mess from Harry's fingers and his mouth screams “blowjob in the loo.” 

“Gotta go find Lou,” he mutters to his reflection and catches Harry’s eye. Lou’s had enough experience covering up various results of Niall’s Harry adventures. He’ll endure an eye roll or two and some heavy sighing but she’ll make him look right again. 

“I think you look good,” Harry grins, turning him around and crowding him up against the sink. His lips are warm against Niall’s and Niall sighs into the kiss, laughing when Harry pushes his tongue into his mouth, licking at the inside, clearly tasting his own jizz on Niall’s tongue. 

Niall pushes him away, a hand on his shoulder. “You’re nasty,” he laughs.

Harry just grins and licks his lips. 

Later when the filming is done, Ben collects their kits except for Harry who just grins and says, “if it’s alright, I think I’ll hold onto mine.”


End file.
